


your voice has stolen my soul

by Froggimus_Rex



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Babies, Fluff, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 23:51:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18418481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Froggimus_Rex/pseuds/Froggimus_Rex
Summary: Randor was pacing. He'd always thought that was just a joke, wearing down tracks in the rugs.Of course, none of the jokes he'd ever heard involved cradling someone else's baby while you ruined the carpeting.





	your voice has stolen my soul

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Afraid of Everyone_ by The National

Randor was pacing. He'd always thought that was just a joke, or was he thinking of a cliche? In any case, not something that actually happened. But it turned out that when the midwives firmly, but oh so politely, with all due deference to the shiny ring of metal on your head your majesty, exiled you to your room, there wasn't much else to do but pace, wearing down tracks in the stupidly, unnecessarily, thick rugs. 

Of course, none of the jokes he'd ever heard involved cradling someone else's baby while you ruined the carpeting. 

But the last time Jorunn, who'd managed to work her magic on even the midwives, had stuck her head through the door separating his and Marlena's rooms, she'd taken one look at him, flattened her ears back, then instead of giving him an update, she'd deposited a squirming, fussing mass in his arms with a suggestion he make himself useful.

He had enough experience to recognise when one of Jorunn's suggestions was actually an order, and was happy to make himself useful. He'd gotten pressed into service as a warm body and spare set of hands enough times over the past few months that he knew he had to at least seem calm before he had any hope of easing a child's distress, but soon enough Catra's plaintive, squeaky mews gave way to a buzzy, kittenish purring that was soothing enough in its own right that he wasn't faking his own calm anymore. Much.

Which was probably exactly what Jorunn had intended. That was was what she did, after all, find ways to get problems to solve each other with a minimum of fuss, preferably before people started hitting each other.

A tiny, disgruntled yowl drew his attention. He tried not to laugh. Very recently she'd become fascinated with her own tail, long and constantly twitching, without quite realising it was attached to her person, leading to predictable results whenever she did manage to catch it.

"Oh, hey, careful there, kitten," he said softly, disentangling tiny claws and wriggling his fingers to provide something else for her to bat and grab at. She was still too uncoordinated to pose any real danger to them, but she followed their movement with a determination that she'd clearly inherited from her mother.

It was then that he made his fatal mistake. He at least managed to staunch the bleeding by the time Jorunn made her next appearance.

"Here I was hoping she'd at least make it to six months before causing a diplomatic incident." At the sound of her mother's voice, Catra twisted around and stretched out chubby arms. Jorunn was the very picture of stoic disapproval, mostly directed at him, though Randor caught the tell of her spotted tail tip flicking with suppressed laughter out. "Do I even want to know?"

He shrugged with a sheepishness he was rarely allowed to admit to any more, lifting the handkerchief to show her the stinging parallel lines crossing the bridge of his nose. "Would you believe I feel for a cunning trap and a tiny warrior claimed her first victory."

"Against a foolish opponent." He couldn't actually argue with that. "Let's hope your daughter inherited Marlena's sense instead of yours."

Randor finally noticed Jorunn was carrying her own squirming bundle. "Daughter? So she had a girl?"

"Twins, but the boy had the misfortune of arriving first." There was true disapproval in her voice now, but before he could say anything and start a non-argument defending something he didn't even want to, Jorunn switched their burdens around with a grace he'd never be able to replicate without dropping something or someone. "Marlena wanted you to meet this one before you got dragged into _that_ as well."

He looked down to meet an unfocused blue gaze, the names he and Marlena had spent months discussing and debating completely fleeing his mind. She was tiny thing, his daughter, red and wrinkled and perfect, and Randor had never been more terrified in his life.

"The last time you looked this scared you asked me to marry you." Jorunn really had no right to sound this amused as she intercepted tiny, curious hands before they could get too close and gently admonished no claws, kitten. "The answer's still no. Also breathe."

"They wanted to stick a crown on my head." Right now, even that seemed a vanishingly small responsibility compared to the one he was holding. "Even you'd panic if someone did that."

The kind of silence that made it very obvious that Jorunn was graciously not bringing up that he'd kind of done exactly that followed. 

In the quiet, the fussing sounds Adora, that was right, Adora for a girl, Adam for a boy, oh goddess there were two of them, made were even louder, and something in his chest clenched. "How do I not fuck this up?"

Jorunn rested her free hand on his shoulder. "I'll let you know when I figure that part out," she said, ears and mouth twitching wryly. "All else fails, we _could_ always give them to Duncan, people seem inclined to randomly gift him babies these days."


End file.
